


Rise of the Stalks

by WhereTheStoryStarts



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempt at Humor, BAMF Women, Flash Fiction, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Pulp Science Fiction, Science Fiction, Weird Fluff, When Brocolli Attacks, kind of, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereTheStoryStarts/pseuds/WhereTheStoryStarts
Summary: When the food pyramid fights back.The best excuse to not eat vegetables you'll ever find.
Kudos: 1





	Rise of the Stalks

“Mommy, my broccoli is looking at me!” Monica rolled her eyes, shoulders hunching a little as she finished dishing up her own dinner; glistening, browned chicken skin tempting her more than it should. Having an imaginative child was a blessing, it really, _really,_ was. 

But if that kid came up with one more ridiculous yarn to explain why she just  _couldn't_ eat her vegetables, or make her bed, or any of the things Monica was reasonably certain it was entirely normal to expect a six year old to do at least twenty-five percent of the time without complaint, she was going to abdicate. 

Quit. 

Run away to Timbuktu. 

One of those, anyway. “Mommy, now it's moving!” Kelly's chair scraped across the ground as she apparently hurtled herself away from the kitchen table, and Monica turned around, prepared to tell her to sit her butt down and eat her food. Only to feel her mouth drop open as she saw her daughter was _not_ lying. The broccoli on her plate was slowly raising itself up on its stalks and Monica couldn't move. One piece reached a branch of its floret over for a fork it should not have been able to lift, raising its silvery prize up in the air, triumphantly defying the laws of physics.

Monica could not have said what was so triumphant about the plant if asked, but there was no doubt in her mind that was what it was feeling. That just wouldn't do. “Mommy!” Not when her always brave daughter was huddled against her side, shivering and sweaty.

“Kelly, baby, hand Mommy the magic bullet and go into the living room.”

Later, her girl peeked at her through the open doorway, bits of broccoli decorating the room like moist, green glitter, and surely just as hard to clean up. A chunk fell from the ceiling and landed on Monica's eyelid.

“I think we should order pizza...”


End file.
